


Unlikely Enemies

by acrimsondaisy



Category: The Blank Rune
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, I tried my best okay, M/M, Pain Sharing, tw for ableist and homophobic language, tw for self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29030472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrimsondaisy/pseuds/acrimsondaisy
Summary: As if Tave's day couldn't get any worse, now it's time for fucking Kenaz.They got through the first half of the task just fine, but there's just one thing that might make completing it more complicated than he initially thought.And that's that Liam is his goddamn soulmate.
Relationships: Tave Nelson/Liam Maddoch
Kudos: 1





	Unlikely Enemies

**Author's Note:**

> Hally Birthday, Wilhelm! :D

For every murder the people here have committed, someone needs to be branded with the hot iron

Oh, for fuck's sake!

The part of Tave that dared assume that any of this was ever going to be easy was fucked the second that he looked around him and took in the reaction of the other tributes in the room. Shame on him, really, for expecting any different.

The loser and his friend were staring at the oven, their eyes wide, Rhy already moving to blither on about some excuse or other, with the other kid was still standing around, looking confused. If anyone had asked him just a second ago, he would've said that none of them had it in them to commit a real murder.

Either way, he'll have to deal with that later. Maybe it was just the shock of what was being asked.

But Liam. Fucking Liam. That motherfucker had gone entirely pale – not that that soulless ginger had much color in him to begin with – and was shaking his head in open fear.

Not a surprise, really. _Your first?_ What a condescending prick! Not everyone could be a complete psychopath, thank you very much.

That was the one upside of this, at least. He'd enjoy watching that greasy bastard finally eat his words.

Still, nobody made a move.

“Oh, to hell with this!”

No way around it, really. Tave walked up to the oven and picked up the brand, pulled up his shirt, and pressed down.

 _Fuck_. It hurt like hell. Tave let out a sharp hiss as the hot metal touched his skin, searing itself into his flesh.

“What on earth?” it was an exclamation spit through gritted teeth, a voice struggling to control itself despite the pain. And it wasn't his own.

Tave spun around to see Liam clutching his upper thigh. The same spot that Tave had just branded on himself.

“No fucking way,” Tave growled. As soon as the shock wore off, his eyes narrowed at the other man, “You're fucking shitting me.”

“I'm not doing anything,” that infuriating ginger had the audacity to claim, “It was you who decided to just go it without warning.”

That little piece of... “One step back, buddy. Stop pretending that we're soulmates.”

Liam, that asshole, just crossed his arms. “Given this new information, I'd say that this may very well change how we approach this particular task.”

“There's no new information,” Tave hissed.

“Oh, are you guys soulmates?”

A bright voice. Obnoxious and familiar. Tave didn't even need to turn around to know who was speaking.

“No. Shut up, Rhy!” he shouted at the same time that he heard Liam say “Maybe we should consider that as a possibility.”

Although the room stayed dark as it always was, hearing that made Tave see red. “No, we're fucking not. This guy is just pretending that we are so that he can get out of having to fess up to his own murders if he turned back to the bastard. “It's gotta be at least two, right?”

Liam's mouth pressed itself into a thin, tight line.

“At least two?” the confused looking kid exclaimed from the corner of the room. Everybody ignored him.

“That's right, isn't it?” Tave hissed, unable to resist the urge to needle the red-headed man even further. “How many people did you kill? Come on now, don't be shy. You can't sink much deeper in my eyes.”

“I- I don't know.”

Tave scrunched his brows together. “What do you mean 'you don't know'?”

Finneas shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I mean, I don't – We, um, lose our memories? What if-”

“That's not the point. He-”

“Well, he does have a point, that might be an additional factor that will make this more difficult to parse.”

Tave's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. “Shut up, Liam!”

The ginger raised a brow. He bet that bastard got them plucked, too, pansy that he was. “I thought you wanted me to answer your question.”

Tave bared his teeth, barely suppressing a growl. “Well?”

“Like I said. I'm not sure. I'd have to go through them, but even then, there's the possibility that I might fail to account for everyone.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“There's also the question of whether indirectly causing someone's death would count as a murder or not...”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Hey...” Rhy chimed in, his voice small, “That's not a bad question...”

It was, Tave thought, incredibly merciful of him of him to ignore the loser at that moment and focus the bulk of his ire on fucking Liam.

“Stop beating around the bush. How many?”

Liam scratched his head. “Um...”

“Well?”

“Let me think!” he snapped, “One person... I bludgeoned to death. One I slit their throat... do you think it counts to deliver small doses of poison to someone who's already sick?”

Tave took a deep breath. It would be a bad idea to lose control now, he told himself. No matter how much he deserved it, he shouldn't kill Liam. Instead, he turned to Rhy and Phillip.

“What about you guys? What's your deal?”

Rhy stepped forward. “I killed two people.”

“What?” his friend turned to him.

“I killed two and you killed none, right?”

“You're lying.”

 _Please_. Can't Tave have one thing going smoothly for him? Or at least deal with anyone who isn't completely insane?

“But I did kill someone and you know that.”

“What difference does that make? No matter how we split up the two, we'll both feel it anyway.”

Huh?

“But it's about the principle of the matter! You've killed three people and I killed one.”

Nope. That did it for him. Tave officially had enough. He wasn't going to listen to one more word of their bickering.

“Liam!” he whirled around to his old ally, “Do you have a number now?”

“There was a shooting. I'm not sure if-”

“Fuck, just make a decision, you piece of shit!”

“Fine, fine, it's probably not that important, anyway.”

The two idiots kept arguing with each other in the background. He tried his best to tune them out.

“Oh wait! I forgot the boy I had to kill at my initiation!”

It was completely bizarre. That guy had really just said that, as though he was admitting to forgetting his house keys or something. Behind him, chaos continued to erupt. Time to put a stop to it.

“Everyone shut up!”

Fortunately for them, they actually listened and granted him a few seconds of precious, precious silence.

“Liam. How many people did you kill?”

“I'm not quite sure, but I believe it was four.”

_Jesus Christ..._

“You 'believe'?”

“What do you expect? Am I supposed to remember every single one of our missions?”

And just when he thought he had reached the bottom of the barrel. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? Tave felt bile rise in his stomach. No way this fucking... psychopath was his soulmate. No goddamn way.

Tave shook his head. Opened his mouth. Closed it again. This was just wrong.

“Yes,” he just replied dryly, “Yes, that's what I expected.”

Liam, infuriatingly, simply shrugged. As though it was Tave being unreasonable for expecting basic human decency.

“Fine. Start working on that hot iron, then!” he turned away again – because dear God, he was sick of staring at those freckles. Besides, he still had the other idiots to deal with.

This day was only getting worse, and was apparently determined to drain the last bit of hope for humanity he had left. That Rhy, of all people had killed someone – Tave had to admit, he didn't think the little fellow had it in him – but hey, thanks to the awful ginger his standards had been lowered so much that he found himself relieved that at least, they didn't seem as callous or evil as his district partner.

More than anything, they just seemed like bumbling idiots. Especially as they started to explain why Phillip's father wanted to kill him. Because he wasn't that... straight? What the hell was that supposed to mean? That he wobbled when he walked? That he was left-handed? Tave couldn't imagine any of these things being something you'd try to kill your own son for.

Then again, he was currently in the same room as Liam. And Tave wouldn't put it past that guy to kill someone just for looking at him the wrong way. Speaking of that bastard...

“Liam, what the fuck are you waiting for?”

“Calm down. I'm just trying to make sure I don't miss anything.”

Tave gave him a thin, fake smile. “I believe in you, champ. You can multitask. We don't wanna fall asleep in the middle of the task now, do we?”

He fixed Liam with a glare who, in turn, met his gaze with steady defiance, a silent challenge in his eyes. Tave didn't let up – but neither did Liam, looking him right in the eye even as he lifted the top of his shirt to reveal his bare thigh, an act which inadvertently forced his gaze down. Tave hadn't known that you could have freckles on your legs and for a moment, he was so bewildered by this that he forgot the situation they were in, and when the hot iron crashed down on top of it, Tave's own eyes widened in shock.

The greater shock, though, came with the sudden pain on Tave's own upper thigh, in that exact same spot. The same hot, searing pain that he had applied to himself mere moments ago.

A scream escaped his throat. One of pain, pain that had taken him by surprise, unable to brace himself for it. One of shock, as his mind wrapped itself around the unfathomable fact that Liam's earlier scream of pain hadn't been for show. And one of anger, when he realized just who it was he could blame for a lifetime of unexplained pain.

Most people would've told you it was unfair to blame your soulmate for any pain they unwittingly inflicted upon you. After all, pain was an unavoidable fact of life. Especially in Tave's own case, there was an argument to be made that he had put his soulmate through a great deal more than he had put him.

But Tave wasn't listening to any of these arguments. Right then, he felt only the sheer betrayal of it.

“No, no, no, no, no, no!”

“See? I wasn't lying!”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” he screamed, “This isn't happening!”

“Trust me, I'm not exactly thrilled about this development, either.”

“You're a complete psychopath – you can't be my fucking soulmate.”

Liam pursed his lips. “I guess you should be glad it's not you who's the Star and can't lie...”

“How's that for a truth, then?” Tave growled, “If you don't shut your smug little mouth, I'll punch your tooth out!”

Something changed in the other man's expression, darkening all at once. Without warning, Liam brought the hot iron down on himself again and made another mark. Pain flooded through his thighs once again. Tave staggered backwards and let out a small growl. Fuck. He really needed to get himself together.

“I hate you,” he hissed at Liam. This guy just kept getting under his skin.

“Um...” an unfamiliar voice interrupted them. It took him a moment to recognize that it was Finneas who was speaking, “If it helps you... you guys could also be platonic soulmates. It doesn't have to be romantic.”

“Of course, it'd be platonic!” panic rose in Tave's stomach that he frantically tried to push down as the realization of what this could mean threatened to besiege the protective walls of his mind, “What else would it even be!”

“Heh. That's one familiar excuse if I ever heard one.”

It had been Rhy's friend who had spoken, the one with the burn scars. That one snide comment, callously murmured into nothingness... Tave's heart beat faster.

No, he wasn't going to let any of these people confuse him.

“Anyway, I'm not your friend,” he turned back to Liam who hadn't moved from his position. It was almost a relief to look at him again. While everything else in the arena had been one mess of uncertainty and chaos, Liam had been the one constant he had. Tave scared himself with how fast he had come to rely on him, “And I believe you still have two more brands to go.”

*

The walk back was one of the most awkward things he ever did in his entire fucking life. The two of them walked in silence, I barely even looking at one another. Or at least Tave made sure to look into literally any other direction.

He tried not to think about the earlier revelation. That Liam and him were supposed to be soulmates. Truth be told, Tave had never thought much of that whole soulmate business all too much and it wasn't like he was ever gonna go out of his way looking for him. Who would that have served? And besides, Tave had his family to take care of, he couldn't afford to distract himself with something as nebulous as fated love or even friendship.

It was said that two soulmates, no matter how far apart, could feel any physical pain that was inflicted on the other person. People said that was a comforting thing, romantic even. That sharing pain together made it more bearable.

Tave always thought that was bullshit, though. He didn't want anyone else's pain. He still remembered that one night, when he was young and afraid, waking up in a cold sweat, gasping in pain that he couldn't locate, that wouldn't stop and got worse and worse no matter how he struggled.

Liam hadn't been kidding about being tortured by the Red Rabbit. Tave knew that now with more certainty than ever before.

He also didn't want to load his own pain off on anyone else. When he thought back on everything that he went through... all the fights, the days he went hungry, being shot in the leg... Fuck.

He glanced back if only for a moment. Liam's expression was neutral, cold – and for the first time, Tave wondered if he had had a hand in shaping him into that person. Callous and cruel, out to save his smile above anything else. If this day had proven anything to him than that this was exactly the kind of person Liam was. Spineless, selfish, and utterly irredeemable.

But could he truly blame him for turning out that way if he considered all the pain he had put him through, with how utterly careless he had been about the well-being of his soulmate? Every time Tave had put a needle in his arm – had he felt that, too?

Tave was just about to say something, but then his gaze drifted to his sword, to the blood, just dried, sticking to it, and he thought that – Yes, yes he could still blame Liam for what he did and the kind of person he had become. They all made their own choices, after all.

“Hey, can you watch out where you're stepping?”

Tave didn't even have to look back to know what Liam was referring to – Tave had just stubbed his toe, accidentally stepping into a wall.

“Tough luck,” he said through gritted teeth, “I gotta deal with you. You gotta deal with me.”

“Doesn't sound like a fair deal to me.”

“Go cry about it. Why don't you tattle to your mommy?”

“My mother is dead.”

Oh. Tave could feel his shoulders lowering slightly as he tried to ignore the guilt that was slowly starting to bubble up inside of him.

“So is mine.”

More silence. It seemed that Liam didn't have anything to say to that. Or maybe he just thought it would be wiser to keep quiet, in case any common platitude from his mouth would be considered a lie.

“Well,” the redhead spoke up again after some more time had passed, “At least now that we know we can adjust our plans with it in mind.”

“I guess,” Tave grunted. Another pause. “I'm not happy about this, just for the record.”

“I had assumed so,” came the reply, more quickly than he had anticipated, “Do you think I am?”

Tave shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? You're a psycho. Maybe you see it as an advantage against me or something.”

“Hearing you talk about me, it almost seems as though you believe I don't have any feelings at all.”

Tave spun around to face the other man, anger seizing hold of him once again. “You killed four people in cold blood and didn't even care to remember their names” he yelled, “And now you want to talk about your feelings?”

Liam held up his hands and took a step back for a moment, he could swear there was a glimmer of fear in his eyes. Tave furrowed his brows – until he realized that he was still holding a sword. Awkwardly, he lowered it again.

“You may have made up your mind about me and that's your right,” Liam started again, his tone more cautious now, “But I have my reasons. Perhaps I seem cold to you, ruthless. Maybe even villainous. But it's still my life and the experiences I had that shaped me into the kind of person I am now.”

Tave wasn't impressed. “You could say that about literally every single human being on earth. Doesn't mean I should have sympathy for you.”

“I just want to say that in my line of work, you can rarely afford to be kind,” Liam shrugged, “I felt what you went through and I know your experience hasn't exactly been easy.”

Tave kept his mouth shut and looked away. It wasn't fair of him to bring up their bond right now even if it was the thing that had spurred this whole discussion in the first place.

“Tell me, Tave, what do you think of our district?”

“It's a fucking shithole.”

Liam nodded. “A shithole where you'll be incredibly disadvantaged if you're not strong enough to take charge of it,” he said, “That's what I think. You're either strong enough to survive or you fall risk of becoming a victim.”

Tave swallowed. There was nothing he could say to that. Nothing he could reply without making himself out to be a massive hypocrite. And so he didn't and simply kept walking ahead, in silence.

*

The day was nearing its end. Taking one glance at Liam's collar he could tell that they barely had five minutes left before they would be knocked unconscious again.

Tave sat down. It would suck hitting his head on the floor just because he was too stubborn to let himself rest. Liam did the same, seating himself a few meters away from Tave.

Silence. For a few moments, he just watched the seconds count down on the other man's collar.

“Hey.”

It was his own voice, rough from misuse. He didn't know why he spoke up. It wasn't that he liked talking to that asshole. But all that silence...

“What do you think 'not so straight' means?”

The ginger regarded him for a moment, brows raised in disbelief. As if his question had been completely absurd. A moment later, a smug smile settled on Liam's features.

“Wouldn't you like to know.”

And then, infuriatingly, he winked at him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fanfiction for The Blank Rune (https://www.fanfiktion.de/s/5aa6ab4500029f4925c9cfc3/1/The-Blank-Rune) which is a German story that takes inspiration from the Hunger Games. The author of the original work is Herania here on AO3 and I highly encourage you to look up their work here as well, if you're into obscure Russian video games. I plan to translate the original fic eventually, but if you speak German and this intrigued you... Please read it <3)


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